


A Room With a View 2015

by petrovafossil



Category: A Room With a View - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Female Emersons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Modern Retelling, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrovafossil/pseuds/petrovafossil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy Honeychurch wasn't particularly excited to be going on holiday to Italy with her stubborn, old-fashioned grandmother Charlotte. But when she meets beautiful, free-spirited Georgia Emerson, suddenly the holiday doesn't seem so bad after all. Will Lucy decide to follow her heart, or what her family want from her?</p><p>A modern, queer retelling of E.M. Forster's 'A Room With a View'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Room With a View 2015

**Author's Note:**

> Important notes:  
> \- First and foremost, George Emerson is now Georgia Emerson.  
> \- Lucy's Aunt Charlotte has been changed to be her grandmother. In the scheme of things, it made more sense for the old-fashioned, fussy lady to literally be an old lady.  
> \- Mr Emerson is now Mrs Emerson. It just made sense for a female George to be sharing a hotel room with her mother rather than her father.  
> \- Mr Beebe is no longer going to be in the story. I couldn't find a place for him.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Look, don’t worry about it, Nana Charlotte,” pleaded Lucy Honeychurch, watching with concern as her grandmother speared a potato with her fork as though it had done her some kind of personal wrong. The other members of the tour group were looking round at her and some were laughing, and Lucy was quite keenly aware of this. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well it matters to me, Lucy,” the older woman replied. “I mean, I don’t think it’s much to ask, do you? I specifically requested a room with a view when I booked this hotel, and that’s not what we got!”

Lucy stared at her plate miserably, burning with embarrassment as her grandmother continued to bluster on about useless online booking forms, how technology caused more problems than it solved, how she certainly wouldn’t be giving them her money again. This holiday was a terrible idea: Lucy would have to put up with her grandmother grumbling and fussing over every tiny thing like the silly old lady she was. It was a shame, because she’d begun to genuinely look forward to this holiday. The only stumbling block was the fact that she had to go with Nana Charlotte. 

Charlotte had first been to Italy in the summer before she’d gone to university, and now firmly believed in the ‘rejuvenating power’ of the country’s culture and history. She’d been back numerous times since – though never to the hotel they were currently staying at – and taken Lucy’s mother before she went to university. So, Charlotte decided, it only made sense to take Lucy too. After all, she was rich enough to be able to waste money on what was, to Lucy, an entirely useless enterprise. Lucy remembered her younger brother Freddy howling with laughter at this, but – as her mother pointed out – it was something of a family tradition by this point. Besides, they said, a holiday is a holiday, no matter the strangely antiquated reasons for going. It would be foolish for Lucy to pass up on that.

As time had gone on, Lucy had come around to the idea. She thought about the weather, the countryside, and the chance to escape her impending student poverty, and her mother’s subtle digs at why she hadn’t found a boyfriend yet. Suddenly it all seemed like a wonderful idea. Yet here, now, everything she’d been dreading most had come to pass. Nana Charlotte was already making a scene, and they’d barely been there two minutes. 

Just when Lucy was about to make a second attempt at calming her grandmother down, a voice piped up from a nearby table.

“Excuse me?” 

Lucy turned to see who the voice belonged to, and a kindly, slightly chubby middle-aged woman smiled back at her. Sitting across from her was a younger woman, about Lucy’s age, who was much slimmer, with blonde hair and a light tan. She was drumming her fingers on the table and looked like she was trying desperately not to laugh. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear you,” the older woman explained, “and I really am very sorry to hear about the problem! Terrible, isn’t it, this online booking nonsense? So easy to make a mistake! I couldn’t make head nor tail of the thing, had to get Georgia to do it for me, didn’t I George?”

She motioned towards the younger woman, who must have been her daughter, and she smiled at her mother fondly. She then briefly met Lucy’s eyes: for some reason, Lucy panicked and looked away, feeling like she’d been scorched.

Nana Charlotte had stopped fussing, and now looked just as embarrassed as Lucy.

“Oh, er, that’s very kind of you,” she said awkwardly.

“I’m Angela Emerson, by the way. This is Georgia, my lovely daughter!” said Mrs Emerson, gesturing towards Georgia with a flourish. Georgia laughed.

“Ah yes! The lovely daughter. Such lies, mother,” said Georgia, grinning at Mrs Emerson and then at Lucy. Lucy giggled, then immediately regretted it. What was she, twelve?

“I’m Lucy Honeychurch. This is my Nana Charlotte,” Lucy said, tearing her eyes away from Georgia to speak directly to Mrs Emerson. Nana Charlotte looked like she’d just been slapped; Mrs Emerson, on the other hand, positively beamed.

“Honeychurch! Oh that’s beautiful, isn’t it George? A lovely name!” Mrs Emerson enthused. 

“Yes. Beautiful,” said Georgia, looking straight into Lucy’s eyes. She kept Georgia’s gaze this time, and started feeling odd inside. Muddled.

“I've got an idea!” Mrs Emerson exclaimed, bringing Lucy back down to earth. “Why don’t your family and ours swap rooms? George and I have a view, but we don’t mind at all not having one!”

Georgia nodded in agreement. 

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Nana Charlotte insisted, looked thoroughly mortified. The entire tour group had now stopped eating to watch the drama unfold.  
“Why not? Go on, we really don’t mind! You specifically wanted a view, it’s only fair!” insisted Mrs Emerson.

Lucy wasn’t sure how her fiercely stubborn, yet also fiercely image-conscious grandmother would turn down the room while still remaining polite: but then, some other member of the tour group shouted “Ah go on, just take the room!”, which made the entire dining room erupt into laughter. Nana Charlotte looked as though she might explode in fury, but Lucy and Georgia had fallen prey to the giggles, and as they looked at each other, it was as if they were sharing some kind of secret joke. Lucy liked that, mostly because she liked the idea of being Georgia’s best friend.

“Well…if you insist,” Nana Charlotte said begrudgingly. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs Emerson.”

With this bombshell, the other dinner guests applauded, and Lucy and Georgia fell into hysterics. Georgia had a beautiful smile when she laughed. Perhaps this holiday would be all right after all.

****

“I am appalled at the way you acted this evening, Lucy,” said Nana Charlotte later, once the rooms had been switched. She was pacing furiously between the bedroom and the ensuite bathroom, putting toiletries away as loudly as possible. Lucy didn’t know what she was complaining about. She had the room with a view now, didn’t she? And, in fairness, it was a lot better than their old room. In the daytime, Lucy was sure you could see right across Florence.

“What do you mean, the way I acted? We have this room now, don’t we? And it was very nice of the Emersons to let us have it,” Lucy retorted.

“I don’t doubt that. But they are complete strangers!”

“Hardly. They’re in our tour group, we’ll be seeing them every day.”

With that, Nana Charlotte stopped pacing and looked directly at her granddaughter.

“Don’t be so rude, Lucy. Your mother is trusting me to look after you while you’re here, and I don’t want you…wandering off with strangers whenever you feel like it! You might think you know everything, at your age, but trust me – you do not.”

Lucy sighed. She was still confused about what had passed between herself and Georgia Emerson, and didn’t have the mental or physical energy to deal with Nana Charlotte at that precise moment. Instead, she pushed past her grandmother into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. 

As she turned towards the mirror, she noticed something very strange taped to it: a piece of paper, with a large question mark on it. She took it down, and held the thin, cheap paper in her hands, turning it over for any kind of signature on it. Nothing. Where had it come from? Had it been in here before the Emersons had arrived?

For a moment, Lucy imagined that Georgia had drawn it. This was evidence of Georgia, and she had it in her hands. Something inside her jolted. With that, she screwed the paper up into a tiny ball and threw it into the little bin behind the sink.


End file.
